the skirmish line
Stands at his post as a howling host rush up the
steep incline.
Their rifles answer a deadly fire and they fall with
a fighting frown,
Till two by two, in a row of blue, the skirmish line
is down.
A trooper stood over his wounded mate. "No use
o' yer tryin't' fight,
"Blow out yer brains—you'll suffer hell-pains